Full Circle
by McSlendy
Summary: Humanized Cast. When Big Macintosh encounters a strange wolf within the premises of the Apple farm, little did he know that one single bite from it was enough to change his life for good. Mac-centric. Includes a variety of things, ranging from horrible to nice. No pairings yet... Unless you readers demand one. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer:

I do not own anyone or anything associated with MLP or whatever I'm going to include in my fanfiction. I'm just writing this down for my personal entertainment as well as for others.

* * *

If there was one extra thing that 'Big' Macintosh Apple learned about tending to an apple farm, it would be about protecting his family with whatever he had at his disposal from the potential dangers that lurked right outside the farm, no matter what the cost was.

It was a cold, dark night when he heard the howling of a seemingly wounded wolf, rousing him and his family from their well-deserved slumber after another day's worth of hard work. The full moon had already risen to its peak, thanks to Princess Luna's magical powers, so rather than the usual darkness that engulfed Ponyville every night, the moon's bright light reflected from the sun illuminated the town – giving anyone awake during that unholy hour an easier task of seeing in the dark. Such bright midnight light was rarely expected, but nevertheless it was appreciated.

A worried, groggy and curious Apple Bloom was the first of the Apples to be on her feet, her squinted, small amber eyes gleaming from the moon's light, as she tried to locate where the wounded wolf was howling from at her vantage point from her window. Due to her small form, she had to slightly tiptoe to get a better look, her messy locks dangling carelessly behind her, an effect of occasionally turning in her sleep. That did not deter her in her search for the wolf; It seemed so strange that a random beast would stray into the Apple farm, wounded and loud.

When she heard rapid footsteps heading towards her room, she dashed back to her bed and at least pretended to have been woken up by the noise as her older sister Applejack had. If she recalled correctly, her older sister was wearing an orange modest night gown around her beautiful form. She could remember how she looked like even in a moment like this: the long pony-tailed hair, her light freckles, her green eyes and her welcoming, kindly face. And her hat. Despite not knowing it, Apple Bloom desperately needed her sister with her now. She was afraid.

Then when the said older sister suddenly barged into her room without preamble, she looked – for a lack of a better word – relieved and glad to see her older sister when she needed her the most, and Applejack felt likewise, relieved and glad to see her younger sister still in bed.

"Oh, thank Celestia you didn't wander off somewhere when the howling started, Apple Bloom." She was saying, climbing on her small bed and hugging her little sister tight.

"Applejack? What's going on?" Apple Bloom asked, her body slowly shaking with fear, partly because she was scared, and partly because the howling seemed to have gotten louder.

"I don't know. But whatever's going on outside, your older brother's going to check it out." Applejack reassured her younger sibling, but there was was a slight edge of panic in her voice; Apple Bloom didn't notice.

"Will he be okay?" She asked, her face an expression of concern, and slightly, fear.

"He will be, little apple seed. Don't you worry. He's the toughest of the tough men around Ponyville. A wounded wolf won't be enough to take him down. Especially him with a hunting rifle." Applejack said, her chest swelling with pride as she told her so, but also with worry. Wolves weren't feared for no reason after all.

"I hope so, big sis." Apple Bloom trembled as she hugged Applejack. "I hope so."

Just then, Big Macintosh poked his head through Apple Bloom's doorway, his features sharp and alert. Gone was the calm and easy-going demeanor he usually held, and gone was the half-lidded eyes and bored expression on his barely freckled face; he was dead serious. He wore his usual attire of a red shirt and blue jeans, with a small flat and metal green apple as a belt buckle on the shell-loaded leather band around his waist. His shirt was barely able to hide his tall muscular body, and adding to his ever imposing and attractive form, was the Apple family's hunting rifle.

His long blond hair, coupled with his small growing stubble, only further reinforced the new aura of seriousness he temporarily carried around. Apple Bloom and Applejack were even disturbed at the change of his personality and attitude – and they felt intimidated by their own older brother.

That was saying something.

"Applejack. Apple Bloom. Lock all the doors and windows. Keep Granma company. I'll be back." He ordered his siblings with a stern, no-buts voice. They knew better than to refuse him as he turned and went down the stairs, followed closely by his siblings who began to do as he said.

"Be careful." Applejack whispered to her older brother as soon as the front door was barricaded, Big Mac already standing outside, having been watching over the fortification of the house while he was waiting.

"Will do." The man replied as he loaded a shell into the single-shot hunting rifle. "See you later."

Big Macintosh stepped out from the porch into the night, hunting rifle at the ready. When he saw the slightest flicker of movement from the direction of the open barn, he slowly set off, careful not to reveal his presence as long as possible despite the wolf's ability to smell him from a distance. From experience, stealth was the only viable option considering the night time environment and the locale of his target; and from what he had seen, the bleeding wolf had unintentionally trapped itself within the barn as Big Macintosh closed the distance silently with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

He had a wolf to kill. And he, for some unexplainable reason, wanted to enjoy killing it.


	2. Chapter II

The moon was still high by the time Big Macintosh was at the barn, back pressed against the wooden doors and trigger finger itching to shoot. He peered into the darkness, eyes squinting to focus on his target, not noticing that the now-silent canine had positioned itself somewhere inside the barn in anticipation of it's prey. It was a surreal sight to behold should one have seen it, it's yellow eyes nearly bright as the moon itself, fangs sharp and wet. It inspired both fear and terror.

Big Macintosh was walking straight into a trap, but he was prepared for it.

He stepped into the barn slowly, his eyes now useless as it was pitch black inside – and he knew that it was watching him somewhere – so he relied on his ears and other senses. He was able to detect the faint smell of wolf blood somewhere near a pile of hay, but he dared not to go closer to it. He could hear his breathing and feel his heartbeat, and then he realized that the wolf must intended to trap itself within the barn to trick and lure him in. Now the wolf had a major advantage.

"_Clever move_." Big Macintosh thought as he steeled himself. "_But not clever enough."_

There was a faint, low growl. The Apple whipped to attention at the sound, his rifle discharging a bullet exactly to where its origin - the wolf's head - previously was, leaving a ray of moonlight rushing in through the small hole in the wall near the doors. The light from the gunshot, combined with the new source of light, illuminated the entire barn, revealing the bloodied rock-gray furred, white-eyed wolf to Big Macintosh. The man gasped in surprise. The beast was very big.

And boy, did it look hungry.

"Horseapples!_" _The blond swore as he frantically reloaded his rifle while taking a few steps away.

The wolf saw it's chance, and lunged at the temporarily defenseless Macintosh. It's fanged mouth was wide open and salivating at the thought of being able to taste human flesh. But the wolf did not count on the ingenuity of the human race as it came closer and closer to the man in it's leap – the canine felt the hard wood of the hunting rifle's butt smacking into it, knocking it out of it's collision course and sending it stumbling backwards a few feet away from the force alone.

"Didn't see that coming, did you?" Big Macintosh taunted as he aimed his now-loaded rifle at the wolf again.

The wolf howled angrily in response, and before Big Macintosh could confirm his kill, it rolled out of the bullet's way at a speed that was unexpected and unheard of from a wolf. The bullet instead hit the ground, sending dirt flying high into the air. His opponent's emerald eyes widened in shock.

"What in tarnation?!" He yelled, as he again frantically reloaded his rifle.

But the wolf didn't give him another moment to reload. It lunged at him once more, this time at a faster speed. The wolf's mouth was once again wide open. Big Macintosh braced himself – but not before he jammed the butt of the hunting rifle into the gaping mouth. His effort, however, was wasted as the wolf seemed to have ignored the pain from the counter attack, biting off the butt of the gun to Big Macintosh's horror and knocking the breath out of his lungs when it landed on him.

"_Oh, crap._"

Adrenaline coursed through his body as the wolf attempted to bite him in the neck, saliva dripping into his face as his hands held back the eager wolf by the neck and under it's chin. He slowly lifted the beast backwards, breathing repeatedly in panic, but the wolf, for each inch it was pushed away by him, increased it's efforts to finish the life of it's big prey off. Hunger and the primal urge to survive drove the wolf – it felt no fear and had nothing to lose.

Big Macintosh's strength was failing him. It was quite taxing for him to keep the wolf away from his vulnerable neck, but he wouldn't let up just yet. Not when he had nearly enough room to kick it hard, hopefully hard enough to at least stagger it long enough for him to scramble to his feet, grab the broken but still working hunting rifle, and shoot it until it stopped moving. But all of that had to wait; the wolf was still aiming for his neck, and he was still pushing it back slowly.

At last, the blond found his moment, and mustered all his leg strength into one single kick.

The wolf, not expecting the action, was sent crashing through the wooden wall of the barn brutally. It yelped in extreme pain as the shock of being wounded earlier prior to it's visit to the farm had finally worn off, making the movement of it's bitten rear leg and the feeling in it's face painful beyond it's capability of imagination. The leg wound began to bleed profusely. There were tears in it's eyes. It knew it was going to die on the apple farm.

And it planned to take the big man with it to it's death.

Big Macintosh was still staring at the hole in the wall he had unintentionally made, in awe. While he had made sure that his kick was strong, he hadn't counted on the strength of his body when it was pumped with adrenaline. He shook himself to snap out of it, then rushed for the broken gun. A sweaty hand quickly fumbled for a shell from his belt. He loaded and cocked the hunting rifle. He turned and approached the hole cautiously, remembering too well the fierceness of the wolf.

"_Please be dead, please be dead, please be dead..." _Big Macintosh chanted mentally as he continued further, each step forward filling him with dread.

He poked his ruined gun outside the hole. The moon, at the single moment where he needed it the most, was then covered completely by a thick bunch of slow-moving clouds. The sudden darkness was unnerving. Instinctively he steeled himself again and, preparing for the worst, Big Macintosh took aim at the most likely place the wolf landed at after it's short trip through the barn walls. He calmed himself as his iron-sight focused on the dark figure lying on the ground.

Tentatively, he approached the prone wolf on the ground through the hole, gun still aimed at the animal. It appeared to be dead; it made no movement whatsoever, and the fresh blood was oozing a puddle whose source appeared to from one of it's rear legs – and the puddle nearly touched his boots.

"_There you are..."_ He thought as he observed the corpse, his aim slightly drooping but still edgy.

Not wanting to take any chances, he then aimed for the creature's head...

Then the wolf immediately stopped feigning it's death – it lunged one more time at Big Macintosh. The man, despite expecting it, was still caught off-guard. The bleeding didn't bother it, much less deter it. It's teeth sunk deep into his left shoulder, instead of his neck where he thought it would strike. He grunted at the sudden pain, teeth clenched.

The force of the last lunge still had be accounted for, however. As both man and beast fell, they tripped over the remaining lower planks of wood near the hole - sending the wolf rolling into the barn and sending Big Macintosh falling hard on his back, his legs dangling from the nailed planks somehwat unharmed. His left shoulder wasn't as lucky like his legs were, though; the wolf kept it's dangerous bite on it tight. When it was thrown forwards, the wolf's teeth tore a large chunk of flesh from the Apple.

And by Princess Celestia and Luna, it _hurt_.

Big Macintosh next screamed in pain. First he got bit by the wolf due to his earlier carelessness, and now he got most of his left shoulder's flesh torn off by the wolf's possibly most desperate attack. He could feel the warm blood from his wound soaking his shirt. He felt like he was on white fire.

"_Aaauuugghh..." _Big Macintosh groaned deeply, the burning in his wound intensifying.

The wolf was still struggling to get on it's feet when his sight came back to normal, hands still clutching his hunting rifle. This time, he reasonedhis target couldn't evade the next bullet about to be shot. It lost too much blood from it's effort of feigning it's death and was severely weakened for it. Aiming at the wolf despite his currently upside-down view of the world, the blond held his breath, ignored the pain, took aim at it's swaying head, and fired away immediately.

There was a sound similar to that of a crack when the bullet hit its mark. The wolf fell like a heavy sack of potatoes, and the blood from it's newly given fatal wound gushed out at a remarkable speed, making it splash over Big Macintosh's face, which was already bloody from his wounds given by the wolf. The beast was in it's death agonies, twitching as death's scythe came nearer and nearer to it. It failed at taking the man with it. Without warning, the canine immediately died.

It was finally over.

Big Macintosh was watching the wolf die with a look of pity on his face; relief, pride and pain instantly flooding his senses as soon as he saw it stop moving for good. The slightest movement he managed to do hurt him so much, including his breathing. He continued to clench his teeth to prevent himself from crying out, resisting the pain as he helped himself up from the mess he and the wolf had made in their breathtaking battle.

His adrenaline and shock were long gone by the time he limped himself halfway to the house, still bleeding madly as he heard a high-pitched shriek, followed immediately by the frantic movement of obstacles behind the front door. Applejack rushed out of the house, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of her bloodied, limping brother.

Who collapsed face first to the ground without a word.

"OH CELESTIA, NO!" Applejack screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran to her dying brother. "APPLE BLOOM! CALL AN AMBULANCE, NOW!"

As fast as Apple Bloom could, she reached the phone in record time, calling the hospital. Fortunately for them, the tired receiver at the end of the line did not need to know the reason why she needed an ambulance – her fearful, panicking voice begging for help was more than enough.

Unbeknownst to the Apple sisters, Big Macintosh's body was slowly turning into something else from the inside...

By the time the ambulance would arrive, they would be too late to prevent what was happening to him mentally, physically, and psychologically...

And just then, the moon returned in full force, its bright light touching the man on the ground.

Big Macintosh unconsciously suppressed the urge to howl.


	3. Chapter III

_It was night-time._

_A man was wading through a shallow, reed-infested small river within the dark confines of Everfree Forest. His blue jeans were torn in many places, and there was a noticeable recent bite mark right above his left thigh. He was shirtless; the black tattoo of a small moon surrounded by crescents was visible on the middle of his chest. His white eyes scanned the area before him, his messy rock-gray hair made wet from his slow movement in the river._

_He was all alone, but he didn't mind. Minutes later, he finally found solid ground. He moved on through the thick reeds on the river into the riverbank leading to some thick bushes. He walked through them. He eventually reached a large, grassy clearing. The moon was in the sky._

_He stopped. He was at the destination he needed to be, staring at the silver moon. He tore his eyes away from the beauty of the sky before him and looked longingly at his hands. With regret, he looked back up. And with a sudden scream he fell on his knees and gripped the grass._

_His eyes widened and watered as he bit his lips close, fur suddenly growing out of his back, chest and neck painfully. Next, it was his limbs' turn to grow fur. It was very agonizing. Now claws were growing from his fingers and toes, and paws soon replaced hands and feet. His ears grew longer. His jawline burst forward, teeth extending unnaturally in a show of expanding muscles. His eyes dug deep into his skull and then narrowed themselves. His tightly bitten lips drew blood._

_His jeans disappeared as the fur engulfed his legs; now the black tattoo on his chest disappeared from sight as the fur growing everywhere completely engulfed his body. He screamed again, this time holding his sides as the changing soon affected his insides, his body's biology now complex._

_He cried in pain, unable to hold it in much longer. His next cry of pain was replaced by a howl of pain, his vocal chords warped to something reminiscent of an animal. His melancholy face too burst into a mess of fur, nose changing and extending as his jaws finally stopped expanding._

_The man, whose form resembled that of a wolf and a man fused together, shed tears as he looked up at the moon._

"_Please, Princess Luna, have mercy on me." He mumbled solemnly, voice guttural._

_There was no response from the Princess of the Night – But Luna was watching the man._

"_Please, I'll do anything to get my humanity back! I admit that I dabbled in dark magic, trying to become far stronger than you and Princess Celestia! But I didn't intend to hurt my friends and family in the first place! I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" He growled out sadly, his new animal instincts slowly overpowering his remaining humanity._

"_I was a fool! I didn't know what I was truly doing! Have mercy on me, please!" He begged again._

_In a flash of bluish light, the Princess warped herself from Canterlot's royal castle to in front of the pleading man. At her appearance, he looked relieved, but he was still in pain – he threw himself to her feet and bowed down to her as much as humanly possible in his current condition._

_Princess Luna was wearing her royal black ceremonial clothing, a large white crescent prominent in the design. Her pale skin pleasantly contrasted with her choice of clothing. Her long blue hair was combed neatly. Her tiara, made out of pure obsidian by the royal smith, shone in the light of the moon. Her light blue eyes gleamed. At first glance, it would seem that the she was glaring at him, but in actuality was depressed to see this man in this horrible state._

"_Please... Just please..." He mumbled again, his claws digging deep into the ground, fighting his urges to hurt the Princess._

_Princess Luna sighed, and looked away from him._

"_I apologize Lycan," She started, voice silky and regretful. "But my magic cannot undo what you have done to yourself. Nor my sister's magic. The spells you used are too ancient and too powerful to undo."_

_At once, his bestial face fell._

"_However..." The Princess mused._

_The wolf-man looked at her hopefully immediately._

"_What is it?" He barked._

"_There is an alternative to end your suffering; I could change you into something else." She said, her head bowed._

"_Anything to end this madness..." He sobbed, his sobbing sounding like yelping._

_The Princess held her breath._

"_I will turn you into a wolf, an animal where the beast within you is familiar with. If you consent into turning into that form, I am certain it will be less inclined to fight you over the control of your body, thus, it would be easier for you to ignore it's horrific urges, and much of yours and the beast's and strength will be restricted in your new form. But..."_

_Luna frowned. She wasn't done yet. And what she said was just the good news._

"_I don't know how much dark magic you used on yourself. Therefore, whatever spell I might use on you has a chance to backfire on me, or maybe would not work at all. The beast inside you could also resist my attempt, and perhaps may overpower you in the process, forcing me to take even more desperate measures to stop you from hurting others."_

_She paused, her face taking on a grim expression._

"_My spell will drain the last of your humanity as well. Most of the dark magic you used on yourself will be sealed away in exchange. Though... even I am not sure about what will happen to the beast itself. Hopefully it's consciousness may fuse with yours. If not, the two of you will become two sides of the same coin, more or less becoming one."_

_The man's elongated ears perked up, bloodshot white eyes narrowing._

"_You will still cause harm, but not as much harm as the beast inside of you wanted to create. But remember that there will be small amounts of dark energy left within you, as I have said that the spells you used on yourself are too ancient and powerful to undo. Any ailment you may cause to others with this dark energy may be incurable if you infect them."_

_She took a deep breath._

"_Is this want you want? To transform into a wolf, to minimize the damage you will cause at the cost of the last of your humanity, just for the sake of others you don't even know?" Princess Luna asked._

"_Y-Yes. This is what I want." He replied despondently, resigned to his fate to wander the world as a wolf for the rest of his life, all the while fighting the urges sent by the beast he tried to control before through his spells. "As long as it at least stops me from hurting more people."_

_The blue-haired woman nodded. "Very well. I shall begin my spell."_

_Princess Luna closed her eyes and chanted her spell, her mouth letting loose a series of foreign words and incantations the man didn't understand. Suddenly, there was another bright bluish light – an aura now surrounded the Princess; and the light slowly but surely was engulfing them both._

_His eyes widened as another series of transformations automatically took place on his body. This time, he felt no pain. Only a calming feeling of some kind washed over him. He felt at ease. He closed his eyes and waited for the usually agonizing process to be done, not feeling that he was becoming slightly smaller..._

_He opened his eyes. He was in shock at his new appearance. Gone were his large paws of hands and feet, and gone was the long fur on his body. His senses were heightened; his nose and ears sensitive, his eyes sharp, and his body muscles toned down. He looked up at her, tears of gratitude falling from his eyes._

_He was now a wolf._

"_Go now. Let not the guilt of your actions come with you; let it all go, and embrace your new fate." Princess Luna said as she started to vanish slowly. "Be the wolf. Follow your instincts."_

_At that, the wolf howled into the night. The Princess of the Night returned to the royal castle, silently hoping to herself that she had done the right thing to do. Back at the clearing, the Lycan-turned-wolf sniffed the cool night air. It now felt great, but the bite mark it had on it's left leg had drew out trace amounts of blood during it's transformations._

_It only stung it, but it knew the feeling wouldn't last long. Then, unexpectedly, it's stomach rumbled violently._

_It was hungry. And it needed to feed on something._

_The beast inside the wolf was quiet. It did no such action that resulted in attempting to control the wolf body. It too was hungry, but didn't dare to alert it's keeper. It wanted to see how it would fare as a newly transformed wolf. The thoughts of what could happen to it amused the cruel creature._

_It need not to say a word to convince it's keeper to go hunting. It did not need to share it's power._

_The wolf sniffed the air again– there was a faint human scent somewhere nearby; unfortunately for it, this scent was surrounded by several animal scents it knew to be deadly when provoked, similar to the nearest cluster of animal dens and homes it sensed. It knew that this human was untouchable, but the other few humans living near it's abode weren't._

_Though it knew it could hunt those animals instead, it felt there was no thrill in that - humans were no base prey._

_If it was even possible, the wolf grinned to itself as it set off in the direction of a certain apple farm, teeth bared and anticipating the taste of human flesh, while the beast within could only look forward for it's feeding time..._

* * *

Big Macintosh awoke to the sound of his heavy breathing.

"What... What the hay?" He asked himself weakly in a low tone, face aghast and pale.

He jumped out of bed and looked around in a panic, his thoughts lingering about the mysterious dream, but his movements proved a mistake as a wave of white-hot pain assaulted his bandaged left shoulder. The memories of last night's events then hit him. He winced at what happened to himself, but didn't make any other sound other than his deep breathing. He looked around carefully. He was in a hospital room.

How he got there was up to his imagination.

He stared out the window nearest his bed; it was dawn outside. The sun was slowly rising from the far horizon. Muttering a simple 'Thank you' to Princess Celestia for doing her job, the man attempted to get back to bed, but found himself more and more unwilling for each step taken – he realized something: The apple farm needed some bucking to do! He jumped up for the second time as his wrecked train of hectic, worried thoughts finally settled on his family.

What happened to them while he was out cold?

"_Oh Celestia! Are they all safe?" _He thought, looking for decent clothes to wear outside. "_I've got to go!"_

"You're awake!" Gasped a familiar voice.

His search was ended prematurely as he turned around, revealing a very surprised Nurse Redheart at the opened door. Her long pink hair was tied into a bun. She wore her white nurse's uniform, as was expected from a nurse of her caliber in Ponyville's only hospital, her hat showing the mark of a red cross with small pink hearts in each corner. Her blue eyes bore into his chest. She gaped at him, her notebook and pen falling from her unresponsive hands.

"W-Why, Mr. A-Apple..." She stuttered, face flushing red as she looked away. "Put a better shirt on, for goodness' sake."

It was his turn for his face turn red as he resumed rummaging through the cabinets in his room. Sure, he wasn't that bad to look at even in a patient's uniform with his bandages on under his shirt, but it said otherwise; his chest muscles were easily seen – and damn, he looked hot.

Maybe that was the reason why she looked away, being... polite? Then again, most women in her place would have fainted in glee at the sight of manliness 'Big' Macintosh Apple was inadvertently showing. He rummaged through another cabinet faster to spare himself the embarrassment.

He certainly knew she was discreetly enjoying the uninterrupted view while it lasted.

At last, he finally found a decent-sized white shirt, and immediately replaced his patient shirt with his recent find. It felt snug, but nevertheless he didn't care less as he looked over his left shoulder in time to see the once-again gaping and still blushing Nurse Redheart, staring at his-

The man cleared his throat instantly. "Miss Redheart. My eyes are right up here."

She snapped herself out of her trance almost immediately with a hint of reluctance.

"Huh?" Nurse Redheart asked dazedly. "Oh, right, now where was I?"

She bent down and picked her stuff while the man looked on, arms crossed and eyes rolling.

"_Wait, that wasn't right..." _He thought at the back of his head. "_Now what made me act like that?_"

"Right," She huffed, her blush fading as she returned to 'Nurse Mode'. "Mr. Apple, please get back to bed."

"Eenope." The man replied, attempting to get through the doorway, but she blocked his path.

"You need to rest. You haven't fully recovered yet. Your wound needs to heal." She sternly stated, trying to push him back to his bed, but he didn't budge. "Now please, get back to bed, before you hurt yourself."

"Eenope." He repeated, prying the nurse's delicate hands off his chest.

"Mr. Apple," She began, her voice low and venomous. "You just woke up. Your younger sisters will be here as soon as possible after I call them, and _I do not want_ them to see you over-exerting yourself. If you do not want to get back to bed, _I will make you_. Are we clear?"

Taken aback by the viciousness from the normally calm nurse and the news of his sisters coming to see him, Big Macintosh could only sweat-drop and nod. He sighed as he automatically got into his bed, steeling himself while his left shoulder alternatively stung and burned as he settled in.

"Happy now?" He scowled and growled at the watching smirking nurse, feeling irate.

"_Not again..." _He mentally groaned at himself. "_I'm not acting like myself. What happened to me?_"

The nurse didn't notice his change in attitude. She giggled at the face he made. "Yes. Very."

The pink-haired woman stepped closer almost deliberately, putting her notebook and pen on his bedside table. She leaned in close to the blond while he gulped and felt jittery. He had already done what she asked – no, threatened – him to do. What did she want from him this time?

"Now all I need to do is to make you feel good." She muttered, her eyes trailing to his bed.

He blinked. _"_Wait, what?_"_

Warning bells went off in the blond's head as he instantly pulled his bed sheets closer to his chest.

That came out wrong... _right?_

Sensing the man's sudden discomfort, she stopped and checked herself. Then it dawned on her on what she had done. She coughed, not just because she felt nervous; the other reason was because the room had fallen into awkward silence. She knew she said it wrong; Big Macintosh was bewildered. He had been flirted with so many times by the women of Ponyville - that much was true - so he should have gotten used to or at least didn't mind feeling like this at all...

But she had a feeling that a major part of his current discomfort was because she was a nurse.

"I meant tucking you in." Nurse Redheart said stonily, trying hard to keep her voice even.

"Oh." Big Macintosh mirrored her, looking outside the window to avoid her gaze.

"_Well, that was awkward." _They both thought at the same time.

Wordlessly, the nurse approached the patient and began the easy task of tucking the bed sheets in around the covered form of Big Macintosh. The man's earlier jittery feeling receded. Now he had nothing more to do than rest and think about that cryptic dream, until his family arrived. All of it felt so real – like he was standing there, right next to Princess Luna – but everything they said in the dream made a bit of sense to the simple apple farmer.

Somehow.

It still left the man wondering about it, though.

"_What did it all mean? And why did Princess Luna call that... man... a Lycan?"_ He pondered.

He shrugged involuntarily at the multiple possibilities, causing the pink-haired nurse to glance curiously at his direction while she tidied up the messy cabinets left in his wake. After arranging the clothes and other materials and putting them in place, she walked up to the bedded man, intent in checking for changes in his condition.

"Do you feel cold, Mr. Apple?" She asked concernedly, trying to gauge his body temperature as she lightly press her hand on his forehead.

She felt nothing. Nothing at all.

"That's odd..." She half-said to herself as she took her hand away.

"Anything wrong with me, Miss Redheart?" Big Macintosh inquired, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

"Call me Nurse." She put on a convincing smile. "There's nothing wrong with your temperature, Mr. Apple. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to report to the doctors about you being conscious, and I have to call your family over to see you."

And with that, she left the room gently without making as much as a squeak.

* * *

Big Macintosh let out an self-unnoticed held breath the moment the door was closed. He frowned deeply at himself. Why did he suddenly act like a jerk earlier to Nurse Redheart? It was mind-boggling. Normally he wasn't like that, but for some inexplicable reason his body seemed to be in control most of the time now. It felt like being controlled like a puppet whose master was attempting to make him bash someone he cared for in a comedy. He didn't like it.

He was worried about Granny Smith, Applejack, and Apple Bloom. They were probably anxious or excited to see him after whatever amount of time had passed while he was unconscious. Or perhaps, maybe they weren't. Maybe they had suffered too like he did.

He let his hands palm his face. He had forgotten to ask Nurse Redheart about the condition of his family.

He shook his worried thoughts away. _"They're fine. I should know, because I killed that wolf."_

The man stared at the white ceiling of the room, trying hard to think about something else.

Big Macintosh sighed and replayed the events since his awakening in his mind.

He could imagine the earful of trouble he'd get from Applejack, his younger sister of all people, if she ever found out about his 'little' change in attitude. His previous actions were not befitting of a man such as himself, who was kind, gentle, stoic, and compassionate. And incredibly strong, too.

Which reminded him. That wolf was definitely strong. And why does it look so familiar now?

He needed answers to a slowly piling number of questions in his head. What really happened to him while he was out cold? How long was he unconscious? Something tugged at his mind. His body felt stronger than before. He had a faint idea why, but he just couldn't put a finger on it.

His eyes trailed to his side... and discovered Nurse Redheart's forgotten notebook and pen.

Big Macintosh frowned again.

"Should I, or should I not read this notebook?" He murmured unsurely to himself.

He was tempted to grab it and breeze through the pages to satisfy his growing curiosity. But he knew it would be rude to read whatever was inside the notebook without asking for the nurse's permission. He wasn't raised by his family to be rude. He would shame them all if he did; and after all, there was also the saying that curiosity killed the cat.

And in this case, he was the cat, and his 'death' by curiosity was through being told off by his grandmother, or even worse, his younger sister Applejack, if they ever found out or if he got caught red-handed reading it by the hospital staff.

"Its probably best that I don't know." He murmured again, this time confidently.

The Apple decided. He would leave the nurse's belongings untouched.

And to prevent himself from being tempted again, he turned his back on it and closed his eyes. But for moments later, the blond would soon discover that he couldn't unwind himself on a whim, even though he was really comfortable in his bed and drained of most of his energy...

Something didn't want to let him go to sleep. And this something was forming plans in it's head.

Big Macintosh didn't care nor feel to notice it as he buried his head deeper into his pillows.


	4. Chapter IV

Big Macintosh didn't know how long it would take him to fall asleep. The point was, he didn't. There he remained lying in bed, staring at the white ceiling, hoping that sleep would come to him. But it never did. Figuring that if he couldn't get some more rest, he may as well spent time reflecting on the events that led to his stay in the hospital.

What should have been a peaceful night of rest after a hard day's work had instead turned into a grim, horrific one for the Apples. Choosing to finish off a random, wounded wolf near the barn in the middle of the night with the family rifle had ended in unexpected, dire circumstances for the blond. But he'll recover from the fight eventually.

_"Still, it could have been worse."_ Big Macintosh thought, doing his best not to think about what could have happened.

He could still remember what it felt like to have his own blood coating him, which also happened to mysteriously burn white-hot that fateful night. As excruciating as it was, it also felt strangely tolerable... Until he fainted face first to the ground from the combined efforts of pain, exhaustion and blood loss from fighting that strange wolf.

Then afterwards came his vivid, disturbing dream.

It wasn't everyday that he got to see the Princess of the Night conversing with a person who turned into an unholy hybrid of a man and a wolf fused together, while both were under the light of the silver moon in a dream. And seeing her in the same vicinity of the shape-shifting monster was something to be greatly concerned about.

Barring the fact that Luna was once the dreaded Nightmare Moon, she was still mistrusted by her own people even though she was back in her normal state of mind. Her return had caused several uproars throughout the land, as they saw her as an upstart to the throne, with the 'true' ruler of their country humoring her to maintain control.

With that kind of reputation (though it was eventually played down) she wouldn't have been able to even step foot in Canterlot or anywhere else for that matter, but after showing that she indeed changed for the best, people changed their minds but they still had their doubts about her. This was her price for trying to rule Equestria by force.

Indeed, her bitterness at her sister's popularity had cost her much. But enough of that.

Big Macintosh was attempting to piece together the identity of the... man. Knowing who he was meant he could know what the dream was about. Though, he was sure he had never seen a white-eyed, rock grey-haired young man in the entirety of his life before. He felt that, if he hadn't seen him until now, then nobody in Ponyville ever did.

_"There'd be no point asking anyone in town about him."_ He mused. _"Unless... Wait a minute."_

The man realized something. _"One certain Princess in Canterlot knows who he is."_

_"And that Princess would be none other than Luna." _He continued in his thoughts, recalling her appearance.

There were possible problems concerning communication between him and the Princess, however.

The first problem, Princess Luna was royalty - he wasn't. He simply could not send a letter to her just like that. But he desperately needed answers to his slowly piling number of questions. After an internal debate, he knew he had no other choice but to ask Spike, Twilight Sparkle's assistant and jack-of-all-trades, for his help in the matter.

It was only through his unique, green fire magic that messages were sent directly to the Equestrian co-rulers, not by technology. As he usually hanged out with Rarity or helped Twilight with several spells in the library most of the time, the man couldn't help feel a bit guilty in pulling hours out of the kid's own free time for his personal use.

But there was no time and space for regret.

The second problem was her willingness to respond. She, like the rest of her people in the land, had the right to refuse to answer any kind of question, and he could not bring himself to force her into doing so. Even if he was of noble blood, he still wouldn't. It would be ungentlemanly, and he didn't like coming across as cold in that way.

And the last but not least problem was going to be the time spent patiently waiting for a response. As a Princess, Luna could pretty much take her time writing back, being immortal and such, or would not respond at all. If that was the case, the blond guessed he had to scour the local library for the information he needed in the meanwhile.

For now, all of that had to wait. He needed to get discharged first, and his family was only coming to visit him.

And speaking of them... Big Macintosh immediately frowned.

_"What's taking them so long?"_

* * *

Nurse Redheart was finally at the door to the doctor's lounge.

After making several detours to help her fellow nurses along the way, she felt pleased with herself. But the feeling didn't last long as the stress from the hours she worked this morning had finally caught up to her. Her head was pounding, and her body demanded rest. But she was still in her first shift of the day. She had more work to do.

Her earlier encounter with Big Macintosh wasn't helping her worries much. Acting very unprofessionally in the presence of a patient was considered bad news for her career if anyone else caught wind of it. It was a good thing that the man wasn't the sort of person who would casually tell others about what happened between them.

It wasn't her fault that he was attractive as hay, even in patient clothing. He was too hot for his own good.

_"Now is not the time to think such things, Redheart."_ The nurse thought to herself as she calmed herself down.

Taking a deep breath to further remove any remaining sense of unease, she entered the room.

The doctor's lounge was quite spacious and well-kept. Not to mention remarkably clean, save for the tables their users hadn't got the chance to clear up. There weren't a lot of doctors around inside at this time in the morning, but for the few that were, they were relaxing themselves in anticipation of a long, tiring day ahead.

The smell of cocoa, milk, tea and coffee was a welcome mix in the atmosphere of the usually sterile-smelling hospital. Redheart couldn't pinpoint their origins, but it was obviously clear that they weren't coming from the number of drink-less people at individual tables, one of which held a woman who fell asleep from doing paperwork.

Not too far away, there was a group of doctors huddled in a corner who seemed like they were telling jokes to each other to pass the time, judging by how they were struggling to keep themselves quiet and how their shoulders were moving. Some of them were even holding themselves back to prevent themselves spilling their own drinks.

_"So that's where the smells were coming from."_ Redheart thought idly, before she took a step forward to them...

And found herself reluctant to approach and bother them.

These doctors had earned their rest through their hard work. They also looked like they were enjoying themselves as if they hadn't had fun in a while. Grins, smirks and annoyed looks were common on their faces; they were actually telling jokes on each other's expenses. But one man amongst them was exempt from the entertainment.

And he was the person Nurse Redheart needed to talk to.

He was Doctor Sawbones; a bald, slightly tanned man in his late 30's who specialized in amputation. He had the average height and build of an ordinary person, but the only thing that distinguished him from the rest of the men in Ponyville was his baldness and his unnaturally kind-looking deep blue eyes. And his black goatee.

As a man whose experiences in necessarily separating limbs from their owners in order to save their lives would leave many others in his place in a perpetual state of guilt, he was quite the easy-going person. And possibly the most level-headed after the Chief-of-Staff, as well as the most down-to-earth doctor Nurse Redheart had ever met.

Why would Redheart come to him to talk about Big Macintosh instead of one of her superiors? Simple.

Everybody listened to him for some reason.

-Work In Progress-


	5. Chapter V

The sun was finally high in the sky.

Rising from its slumber, it shone its brilliant rays of glorious golden light over the thatched rooftops of Ponyville. That was only just the beginning of more good things to come, however. As people were waking from their sleep, some were already outside enjoying the early morning, listening to the birds chirping and watching the animals frolicking about.

It was a beautiful sight to behold altogether.

Who wouldn't love to live in a town like this? The townspeople living there were nice once they were gotten used to, and with the abundance of possible friendships and adventure, there never seemed to be a dull moment in that place. And every moment shared with someone else there was made not only memorable, but made a treasure that was kept in their hearts, minds, and souls.

So it was no surprise that the place was filled with positive emotions, practically leaking out of the joys the townspeople experienced everyday.

As the town began to buzz with activity, so did the multiple pockets of buildings that dotted the countryside. Eventually, everyone was awake. The adults went to work as the children went to school. As the streets were emptied slowly and the early morning activities were getting less and less frequent, they knew another great day was going to start for them.

Near Ponyville yet a distance from the town, on the path heading towards the hospital, a bald man with a goatee was walking towards a brown bench, which was occupied by a hatted man who was reading his early morning newspaper article. There was nothing suspicious about him - but he wore brown clothes that was reminiscent of a Texan ranger. They fit him perfectly, though.

The man was in his late 30's, give or take a few more years, as tall as the average height. He was of a slightly toned build, and other than that, he was physically no different to the rest of the men in Ponyville. He had brown hair that went along with his green eyes. There was also a scar that ran up his left arm, but it was barely noticeable, being half-covered by a glove and a sleeve.

As Doctor Sawbones approached and sat down, the man spared a short look at him and then continued reading.

"Rough morning, Sawbones?" He casually asked.

"You have no idea, Hardhat." Replied the doctor amusingly as he gave a sigh of relief.

The ranger coughed and turned to another page. "I can imagine, you know."

He was stopped in his tracks when he felt a nudge. "If you knew, you wouldn't be sitting here."

Hardhat turned to look, and saw that his friend had offered him a plastic cup of coffee.

It was still hot, and the earthy smell was mesmerizing. He took it as he set his paper down on his lap, gratefully chugging two mouthfuls of it down before Sawbones could fully settle down. Two minutes later, the cup was empty, and he lobbed it to the bin directly behind them without a backwards glance. It fell inside neatly, on top of a stack of similar-looking plastic coffee cups.

"Thanks." He exhaled, feeling the warmth of the coffee in his belly.

"You're welcome." Said the grinning doctor.

"So... I owe you about eight coffee cups now, right?" Hardhat asked as he turned to another page.

"Yes... I guess so." He replied quietly.

They both glanced up the blue, cloudy sky. In the distance, they could see some people darting about high in the clouds, their laughter faint. Watching them fly made Sawbones smile for no reason at all, but nevertheless he enjoyed himself. The clouds continued to move, and as they did so, so did the people. In time, there was no more laughter. The area became serene.

Somewhere nearby, the birds chirped.

The man's smile was slowly dropped though, and soon they returned to their previous quiet rest. The ranger stopped reading and stared at the stretch of grass directly in front of them. Amongst the foilage, he could see butterflies fluttering about near a patch of recently bloomed flowers. They were nice to see - the moving and stationary colours were dandy, disarming, and distracting.

A brief moment of silence later, the friendly and bored atmosphere the men held suddenly changed.

"Anything interesting that I should know about?" Hardhat questioned, while pretending to read.

"A patient finally woke up from his coma." Sawbones muttered, his hand cupping his chin, deep in thought.

The ranger raised an eyebrow. "Really? Is he that Apple fellow you were talking about last week?"

"Indeed. Though I was expecting him to wake up next month." Sawbones scowled. "This is not good for the plan."

Hardhat grunted as he turned to another page. "Don't worry. We completed Phase One."

At once, the bald man spun his head to face Hardhat, a look of glee on his features. "We did?!"

His companion sighed. "Come on now, did you honestly think we'd let you do all the hardwork?"

Sawbones laughed. The ranger stared blankly at the doctor, but it was clear that he was angry at him. When the doctor stopped, he realized his mistake, and immediately fell silent. Around them, the birds continued to chirp, the butterflies were still fluttering about, the faint laughter returned, and the sun was briefly covered by clouds.

All of that didn't diffuse the situation though.

"Sorry." Sawbones mumbled, ashamed. "I couldn't help it."

"Be more useful next time." He warned him as he stood up. "Or I will have to put you down myself. You're feeling high as a kite, and you know I don't like that coming from you."

"It will not happen again. I swear." Mumbled the apologetic doctor.

Hardhat growled darkly, but then he softened almost immediately.

"Look, Sawbones..." Began the man. "We appreciate your efforts in providing information for our cause, especially since you volunteered for the job, but we need you to remain focused. One slip-up, and all our operations involving the Lycan will be gone for good. We do not want that to happen."

The ranger cleared his throat and straightened up, tossing the crushed paper away.

"Now, I'll have to go and report your information to the others. I'll see you later."

Hardhat walked away to the direction of Ponyville, his hands in his pockets, slowly whistling a western tune.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Big Macintosh was pouring over the notebook's contents.

The more he read about his profile, the more he became shocked, depressed and guilty. Stuck in a coma for half a year, with his condition slowly affecting his family in work-related problems, he knew he had messed up big time. He should've been more careful in dealing with the wolf, but what happened in the past could not be changed now.

He read more about himself. He was honestly surprised with what he had found; from the wolf bite alone, he had contracted a variety of diseases which died overtime as the days progressed. It was eventually noticed that his body had developed immunities to them, and what was more surprising was the fact they not only strengthened his body, but somehow gave it unknown properties.

The blond had already lost his interest in reading and his mind disregarded the additional information, but continued to read anyway as his guilt kept gnawing away at him. His thoughts were now only about Apple Bloom, Applejack, and Granny Smith. He had to apologize to them. If he couldn't say it, then he would show it through his hard work, whether or not if he was still wounded.

But in place of his grief, he could feel seething rage. The familiar white-hot pain from his left shoulder came back again to haunt him, but he did not feel it. His rage, coupled with his impatience, made his considerably black mood only worse. He could feel his body itching to get out of there fast. Literally jumping out of bed, he rummaged through a cabinet he did not search before earlier.

He found a nice pair of jeans and a long brown jacket, and quickly took off his remaining patient clothing, then put the newfound clothes on. He pondered why the heck the hospital kept these kind of clothes in their cabinets, but the thought was violently shoved away to the back of his head. Then he found a nice pair of leather shoes and put them on.

He really wanted, no, needed to go somewhere else. The room was getting on his nerves.

And while nearly everyone knew the blond for his gentle giant nature, his bad temper, especially when his family was endangered, was dangerous. For the few unfortunate ones who did manage anger him to the point he wouldn't listen to reason, his roars sounded like a dirge, and his punches felt similar to being mauled by a bear.

If anyone asked a survivor, they would simply say nothing. They were too traumatized by him to say something.

He left the room as quietly as he could. He didn't need to alert the hospital staff with his disappearance. Looking at the number on his door, which read Room 103, he figured that he was on the first floor. Walking away, he hoped that nobody recognized him - if someone did, there would be hay to pay from Applejack. That was something he was not looking forward to.

And woe to those who try to stop her from unleashing her wrath on him.

He was in the middle of the corridor. Looking both ways, he saw that it was deserted. For a such a busy hospital, it was quite strange to be in an empty corridor, but the man cared less. He walked to his right, his light footsteps slightly echoing throughout the lone stretch of stone, tiles, doors and lights. Finally, he turned to his left and found himself in front of the fire escape door.

He opened it. His hand automatically came up to shield his face. The light outside was too bright. Macintosh swore under his breath. Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Sensing a presence not too far from him, he slowly adjusted his vision to see the person. To his panic, that person turned out to be a random nurse who was about to light her cigarette.

"Can I help you, sir?" She asked, hesitant to approach him.

It was clear to Mac that this woman didn't know who he was. Using the fact to his opportunity, he played to her naivety.

"Uhm, no... Actually, yes I do. I got lost." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head to reinforce his lie.

She raised her eyebrow - a sure sign she was a bit suspicious of him. "I see. Where were you going to?"

"Room 107. I was going to see a friend of mine. Looks like I went through the wrong door, though." He grinned nervously.

Big Macintosh mentally slapped himself. _"Did I just lie to her? Even if it felt natural, why did I?"_

Somehow, what he said seemed to do the trick. The nurse lightened up, and she smiled softly at him.

"Room 107 is seven doors away from here. Just walk back the way you came, and you should be there." She instructed.

He smiled in fake gratitude. "Gee, thanks."

Walking away as calmly as he could whilst closing the fire escape door, he let out a sigh of relief two doors away.

His rage returned, but it was subdued as his mind wandered off.

_"That was too close. But... did I really need to lie?"_ He thought, troubled. _"This isn't right. I'm turning into something I'm not._"

As the man walked deeper into the corridor, the same nurse whom he 'asked' for help was discreetly pocketing her lighter and returning the cigarette she held back to her pack, taking out her phone in the process. Dialling a long number she knew by heart, she waited for the call to be picked up.

A few seconds later, it was.

"It's on the move." The nurse merely said afterwards, ignoring the common etiquette of cell phone usage.

Instantly, the other side of the line was dropped. The receiver had gotten her message, though.

_"Things are going to get interesting from now on." _She smirked, as she shed her disguise...

* * *

Applejack stared.

She wasn't that good at maths, but she counted the days that passed as she waited for news about her brother. So far, she reached up to one-hundred and eighty-two days. She was sitting on a chair directly in front of the phone, waiting for it to ring - she had done her daily dose of making cider to earn some extra income, and the farmhands she hired were still working on the trees.

She sighed, not just because she was tired, but also because she couldn't stop thinking about her older brother.

This drew the attention of the nearby Apple Bloom, who, by appearance, was withdrawn and absent-mindedly colouring a drawing she had made. She was on the couch, sitting right next to a sleeping Granny Smith who was on her rocking chair. Around her were piles of paper - some were drawn over, some were coloured in, some were half-coloured and some were blank.

The redhead stared at her older sister for a moment, then she returned to her task.

The living room, in the absence of activity, was quiet as a tomb, and the gentle wind that blew through the open window caused the curtains to flutter in the breeze. Aside from Applejack's sighs, Apple Bloom's colouring, Granny Smith's snores plus her moving rocking chair, and the wind fluttering the curtains, the room held the feel of a place for quiet reflections and personal insights.

Outside the house, it was different. The various farmhands were calling out to each other, their distant voices indistinguishable. The ones who were put in charge by Applejack were giving commands to the others, telling them to do this and that, while they were managing the needs of the animals themselves. It was all hard work, but the pay was good, so nobody complained.

Still, while the majority of the work was handled everyday by the trustworthy farmhands, the Apples felt that things weren't the same without Big Macintosh. It felt like they were missing a part of their hearts. And before the wolf incident, they never actually knew how much he had contributed to the farm in the years he spent working on it.

His strength and presence, suffice to say, had worked wonders for them all.

Now that he was gone for a while, they had to rely on the people around Ponyville looking for work. Originally, Applejack was against the idea, but when the doctors told her of his condition... let's just say she had a change of heart. Her friends, of course, helped her through this, but it was soon becoming clear that, even with magic, flight, and songs, farming was out of their league.

It had hurt the blond, but she understood their reasons why they couldn't help her - they had their own lives to live, and they had their own jobs to do to get the money to survive life. But out of all the people in her tight circle of friends, Rarity was the most vocal in her denial in being unable to help. To be honest, they all were, but Applejack had persuaded them to think otherwise for their sakes.

Their will to help was appreciated however, and Twilight Sparkle had even asked Princess Celestia through Spike to use magic to force-wake the man out his bite-induced coma, or at least give the Apples magical farming tools that could help them out. That single act was a big hope spot for everyone concerned, but as it turned out, there were some things at their mightiest that even the Princesses couldn't do about.

Especially when dark magic was involved. To their horror, it turned out that the wolf had some. So when it bit Mac, it entered his bloodstream and did things to his body, aside from giving him the diseases he had become immune to. The current magical problem was studied about vigorously by Twilight Sparkle, and despite her best efforts, the answer was out of her reach.

It was driving her crazy, but it didn't stop her from looking for a solution.

As for the tools, Applejack had written to the Princess asking her not to give them to her. The lack of a workforce was her problem, she said, and the blond didn't want to waste the Princess' time on her. A series of letters was the following result. Eventually, they compromised; Celestia would provide a year's worth of money for the farm, and Applejack would use the money to pay the workers.

So far, the going was good. But she wanted her brother back. Life at the farm was harder without him.

Her thoughts were immediately derailed when she felt Apple Bloom tugging at her hair.

"Sis?"

"What do you want?" Applejack snapped at her, irate all of a sudden.

Her little sister pointed at the small glowing red button on the phone. "You have voicemail."

The older sister instantly became hopeful. "Oh. Thanks for telling me."

Apple Bloom watched her pressing it - believing that, at last, she would hear good news.

_"Hello Applejack, this is Nurse Redheart. Big Macintosh woke up from his coma this morning, and I called to let you know about it. I'll arrange a good time for all of you to see him if you can call me back when you can, but I can only receive calls up until five in the afternoon. If you can't take the time, tomorrow's still a good day to visit him. I'll talk to you later. Bye."_

And indeed, what she heard was good news.

"I don't believe it! He's finally awake!" Applejack yelled happily.

Her yell woke up Granny Smith.

"Huh? What's going on?" She asked drowsily, opening her eyes.

"Big Brother's awake!" Apple Bloom joined in on the rejoicing after coming out of her shell.

Their grandmother's voice was raised. "HE IS?!"

"YES!" The sisters both yelled.

"Oh, thank Celestia! Now let's go and see him!" She said, slowly getting up to her feet.

"We have to call the hospital first, tell them we're coming!" Apple Bloom told them.

Applejack nodded. But when she finished dialing, the line wasn't picked up. She tried again, but still had no success.

"Come on... Someone pick up the phone. Please." She muttered under her breath while the others looked on.

_"The number you have dialed is currently busy. Please try again later." _The phone droned.

"Ugh. Nevermind calling. We'll just go there." Applejack said, putting the phone down.

She went ahead of the two, leaving the front door open, as Apple Bloom was guiding Granny Smith to the vintage car. Turning on the engine, revving it up, and checking if she had the right configurations for the drive to the hospital, she now needed only to wait for her the rest of her family. A part of her wanted to ditch them, though.

As she waited impatiently, a certain hatted farmhand approached her.

"Ms. Apple? What's going on?" He asked, stopping a few feet away from the car.

Applejack turned to look, and saw that the farmhand was Hardhat, one of the 'leaders' she put in charge.

"My older brother's finally awake, Hardhat! We're going to visit him!" She said excitedly.

"Well I'll be." He said, a grin forming on his features. "That's good news! But bad news for us farmhands, right?"

Applejack grinned too. "Oh nonono, it's not. I said we're just going to visit him, not take him back here. He ain't going to replace all of you just yet. He still needs to heal after what's happened, so you guys can still work here for the rest of the year."

"Well, that's a relief." He smiled, adjusting his hat. "So I figure that I'll tell Stringbean and the others about this?"

She nodded eagerly. "Eeyup. Go ahead and tell them. I'm sure they'll celebrate."

"Alrighty then. We'll see you later, ma'am." He said as he whistled loudly to get the attention of the farmhands.

A few minutes later, Granny Smith entered the car, followed by Apple Bloom. Hardhat waved them goodbye, and then he proceeded to head towards the gathering mass of men. Once the rest of the Apples were settled in, Applejack drove as fast as she could without scaring her passengers to death.

She was one hay of a driver. And the best part about her driving?

She got it from her older brother.

* * *

Hardhat watched them go until they were out of his sight.

He then looked around the expectant farmhands. One of them, a teenager judging by his looks, walked forward until he was in front of the ranger. He was only a few inches shorter than the ranger before him. He also wore brown ranger clothes, and had short brown hair and green eyes, but wore no hat - unlike his father.

Hardhat looked at Stringbean proudly in the eye. "Is everything ready for Phase Two, son?"

The teenager nodded. "Yes sir. Everything's according to plan, but the Lycan's on the move."

"Then let's not waste anymore time. Saddle up, boys! We're going to hunt a Lycan today!" Hardhat roared.

"Sir, yes, sir!" The farmhands yelled in unison, then afterwards scattered towards their bunkhouses.

The father and son duo remained at where they stood. The others paid them no mind.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Stringbean asked quietly, nervously looking over his shoulder.

"Always when we're alone, son." Hardhat said as they walked at a gentle pace. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Dad, are we... are we going to minimalize the casualties this time?" Stringbean asked worriedly.

His father shook his head. "No. All other casualties are just collateral damage."

The son visibly relaxed. "Oh, good. I'm going to bring my favorite grenade launcher then."

Hardhat smiled, patting his son on the shoulder. "That's my boy. Now let's go give the damn thing hay, shall we?"

Stringbean returned the smile. "Of course."

As they entered their bunkhouse to suit up, the other farmhands marched out of theirs' - wearing body armour that enabled amazing ease of movement yet gave magnificent protection. They were armed with an extreme variety of weapons - ranging from a simple combat knife to the most dangerous weapon of all time: a rocket launcher.

Two things were learned: one, it sucked to be a Lycan, and two - things were definitely going to be interesting.


End file.
